


your dreams are incredibly loud tonight

by patchworkgirlofoz



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, fjord disagrees with the Wildmother on some things, not so much a crisis of faith as a burden of faith, weird trippy dream stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23815093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchworkgirlofoz/pseuds/patchworkgirlofoz
Summary: Fjord steps into a dream that is not his own. Caduceus is there as well. But Fjord cannot seem to speak to him, cannot move past the barrier to touch him. And something has gone terribly wrong. (Perhaps some gods can be good as well as great, but they all have demands.)
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	your dreams are incredibly loud tonight

The leaves and the grass were just a hair too vibrant, the water far too crisp and clear. Everything was slightly brighter than could be found in life. Fjord placed a hand on the bark of the tree next to him, feeling nothing really at all from the contact, only a vague sense that he knew it to be present under his palm. He wasn’t surprised. Textures were usually what his mind struggled with the most when recreating reality in his dreams, just behind smell.

And Fjord knew he was dreaming. He had conscious dreams before, where he could separate his mind from what was happening around him, where he could move or he could talk within them, all with some control over the actions. 

But he hadn’t had them since his nightmares with Uk’otoa had stopped.

Panic kicked in his gut. He whirled around in the forest, expecting eyes darting out from tree branches, or coiling tendrils snaking out from the long grasses beneath his feet. However, nothing appeared to be watching him. He couldn’t feel the cold press of the monstrous serpent's gaze, couldn’t find any indication of a great eye or many smaller ones hidden beneath the shadows of the leaves or floating beneath the water in the clear blue pond. 

The next thing he tried to do was wake up. Last time a situation like this had happened to him, he’d wound up with a blade straight through his body. He didn’t want a repeat of that. However, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t force his eyes to open. He stood in the clearing for a few moments blinking rapidly or widening his eyes as much as possible, to no effect.

He slapped his cheeks. Nothing, not even a faint sting of pain. 

So there was some supernatural force at work here. Fjord would have worried the bottom of his lip if he thought he’d feel any pressure from the action, but he didn’t waste the effort imagining himself doing it. 

"Anyone here? Hello?" Fjord called out. No response. The trees maybe rustled a little louder from an imaginary wind.

It was worth a try. It did him no good just to speculate to the who or the why he was here. Time to start looking.

As though the dream constructed forest before him was aware that he had arrived to some clarity regarding his situation, it began to quite literally pull itself back, like it was gathering its skirts. Above him, the leaves shifted in the wind. The roots of the trees began to pull themselves up from the earth and the forest quaked as it split itself in half, revealing a path from right where his feet were pointed.

“Okay,” Fjord said, "Cool. Great."

Perhaps a cautious man would’ve ignored it all and just waited the dream out until it ended. But what would be the point in fooling himself here, alone? Fjord was not a cautious man. Besides, if some creature really wanted him here, what was to stop it from reaching out and dragging him. Best to have some agency in the matter. 

When he stepped forward into the small path presented before him, the trees shied even further from his movement. In that dream-like state, he found it only slightly amusing as the branches curled back, as though they were long bending fingers, long knobby digits from disgruntled hosts folding into each other in disgust at the sight of him. 

As the trees withdrew to huddled closer to each other, they began to blend into one solid mass - until there were only two great, long tree trunks stretched out on either side of the path, as opposed to many varied kinds of oak, of ash, of willow. Their bark had come together too, a patchwork spread of various colors and patterns, bleeding and swirling before Fjord’s eyes.

He rubbed his eyes. When he opened them again, the individual trees were back in place as though they had never moved to start. They’d snapped back into rows as close as they’d been to his feet when he’d first begun to move.

 _Keep moving_ , he thought to himself. _Stop getting distracted._

_Definitely don’t reach out and touch the trees._

On the other side of the path, the light was bright before him again. Fjord thought to look over his shoulder, which turned out to be a mistake, because there was nothing behind him. An inch past his heels the entirety of the dream world had crumbled away, leaving only darkness and the edge of some great, swallowing abyss past that. 

_Keep moving, keep moving, keeeep on moving._

In that weird way that dreams often skip forward, Fjord thought of taking one step more forward in the middle of this path and found himself right at the end of it instead, clearing it entirely. It didn’t feel as though he’d moved through time, only more that he’d forgotten the movement from point ‘a’ to point ‘b’. Fjord registered that with a strange sort of calm. _That’s fine. Dreams are like that. Sure._

The cavernous drop cracked and spread further yet behind him. The trees broke in half, falling down, down, down into the dark. The ground shuddered underneath. 

“I don’t need you to tell me there’s no going back,” Fjord said, to the nothing before him. 

And shouldn’t there be something more than the yellow light before him? _Right._ He was beginning to see it now. The light faded first, and then shapes began to bloom and blossom where it left shadow, before. Flowers, beautiful and varied. Bright big red ones and long clusters of purple, a bush covered in white long petals and long yellow stem. He wouldn’t be able to pick any of them out in a book, wouldn’t be able to name them. But they were beautiful. Maybe they had been there all along? He wasn’t sure now. 

A barrier of thick shrubbery rose up over the flowers, deliberately sheared into a kind of wall, save for a square opening to function as a door into the garden beyond. From his angle he could see there was a fountain beyond it. It was shaped into a lithe young man with elven ears, carrying a cornucopia over his shoulder. He was leaning down and the water was pouring from the lip of it, into a small pool beneath his stone feet. 

Further past that, was a tall, pale, familiar looking figure with long, slightly fading pink hair.

“Caduceus -” Fjord stepped forward.

The eyes of the statue flickered towards him and Fjord stumbled into an invisible barrier. He frowned. That shouldn’t be there. He tried again, and was again pushed back. 

Fjord narrowed his eyes. This was a dream, right? Then this wasn’t a problem. He could just think really hard that the barrier wasn’t there. He took a breath, closed his eyes. Tried to think of the space just beyond where he’d been stopped as… fluid. Focused on the idea of there being simply air before him, easy to pass forward. He stepped forward. 

And slammed face-first into the barrier once more. He stumbled back, nose hurting, as though he’d really hit something. 

“What the…” Fjord reached out and the wall was still there. He smacked his hand against it, then his arm, then shoved his shoulder bodily against it. Each time, he bounced off. He made a frustrated noise. 

Fjord started moving down the side of the invisible barrier. It appeared that it ran parallel to the tall hedge wall. He kept an arm outstretched so that his hand could feel for any dip or crevice as he began to walk alongside it, searching for an end or break. Unlike before, where his dream-self had slipped midway through a path to the end, his walking soon developed into a great labor which refused to end. The shrubbery seemed to stretch straight forward where Fjord was looking for a curve or a corner to meet the next wall. Fjord started into a jog, then into a run. 

His lungs were beginning to hurt, his breath falling short and choppy. It didn’t seem possible suddenly for this to be a dream. He’d never felt so exhausted before, not in a physical sense, not where his limbs were heavy and aching from the effort of pushing forward past his physical limits. Fjord wasn’t sure how long he had been running but it felt like it had been an eternity and still, that strange barrier at his fingertips had not changed. 

Just when he thought he could run no further, his lungs on fire and his legs faltering beneath him, Fjord saw break at the end. He could just make out a dip in the garden walls ahead of him, the slight golden glow of light beyond it. Fjord would have laughed, if he hadn’t thought the act would crush his lungs. He started to fall back into a jog, and then slowed further into a walk. His shoulders were shaking, he was taking heaving breaths, but he had found some change and that must have meant something, right?

He approached the light. From beyond, he saw a statue. It was of an elfish figure, a familiar horn around his shoulders. His stone-carved eyes stared at Fjord.

The wall was still firm under his fingertips.

Fjord made a rude gesture in the direction of the statue. He then collapsed back onto the grass, breathing hard. That shouldn’t be a thing, not in a dream; exhaustion. 

Caduceus’ back was only halfway visible from here. He was turned away from Fjord, but he could tell even from this distance that he was talking to someone - or something - just blocked out from Fjord’s vision. Sometimes, his hand would fall into a gesture at his side. 

At first, his body posture seemed to be relaxed. Fjord wouldn’t admit it, but he’d spent a lot of time watching Caduceus, even when he was supposed to be paying attention to other things. Sometimes Caduceus would catch him at it, and chuckle, which wasn't as bad somehow as Beau who would outright laugh at him. But unlike Fjord, Caduceus... wasn’t the type of person who would mask his feelings or lie often. So, you could tell a lot about what he was feeling by his gestures. His hands and arms were loose here, descriptive, languid and calm. Graceful, even. 

But as the conversation went on, Caduceus’ body language tightened. His limbs began to stiffen, shoulders pulling back. One of his hands went up to clutch his arm. He took a step back, and his tail curled under him.

Fjord pulled himself up off the ground, and knocked once, twice on the barrier.

“Caduceus!” He shouted. He heard the words reverberate from his skull, echoing into him instead of being pushed out of his mouth like they were meant to. He tried again; “ _Caduceus_!”

If he was heard, he was being ignored. 

Caduceus fell onto the ground on the other side of the garden wall. His head fell forward, hair falling like a curtain to hide his expression from Fjord’s view. Fjord didn’t need to see his face to know that he needed to be there and not - here, wherever he was - trapped on the outside of everything like a voyeur. 

“Just let me through, let me get to him -” Fjord slammed both his fists against the barrier, and though it was invisible, the sheer force of it managed to make the air around him tremble. 

A lady stepped into Fjord’s vision beside Caduceus. She was tall with human features; Her skin was the brown of fresh earth and Her hair was very long and braided with vine and leaves. Her gown was a shifting silk garment of a deep emerald hue, slightly iridescent, like the shell of a beetle. She put a hand on Caduceus’ shoulder, and looked up at Fjord.

Her eyes were golden, like the sun. Fjord felt his heart stutter, then stop to drop deep in his gut. He knew Her, and yet he didn’t; he'd never seen Her in person before. But Fjord could make a guess as to who She was. 

But it didn’t matter. Fjord wouldn’t let that distract or stop him from what he needed to do. He took a step back, and then rammed his shoulder into the barrier. He immediately felt the force of it rebound against him, twice over, and hissed out in pain.

She smiled at him approvingly, as though he had done something of note, and raised Her arm.

Something before him shimmered. Fjord blinked, and the lady was gone. 

“Caduceus!” He shouted, charging forward again. Only this time, there was nothing there to stop him. He stumbled forward, catching himself on the hedge wall before he could completely lose his balance.

Caduceus’ head whipped back to face him, his face pale in shock. His eyes were wide when he met Fjord’s eyes. He opened his mouth, as though to speak. But before he could do so, the world around them spun, and Fjord did mean it did so in the most literal sense. Like a whirling top, the earth they were standing on bobbed and dipped beneath them.

Fjord tried to remain upright as the ground did him no favors. His grip on the garden wall did no good, it was pulled from his grasp further with each revolution and as he fell once more into the dirt, he watched in a kind of fascinated horror to see as each shape, each tree or flower or stone, left a pattern of shadows behind in multicolored reflections of where they had been before; the aftereffect of their motion captured in permanence. It reminded Fjord strongly of the reflections of self in the Beacon. Eventually, these shadows began to converge into each other, blurring into a solid mass. 

The colors and shapes around them began to bleed together; the ground, the sky, and the structures between them alike. Like a watercolor painting that had nearly been finished, now an accidental brush stroke had pulled the detailing into one muted and muddy swath. The more and more they blended, the darker and darker it was becoming around Fjord, not the promising dark of a night sky stretching into far off space but a claustrophobic space, one he was sure had walls of some kind that might close in at any moment. 

Fjord could no longer tell direction; which way was up, or down, or sideways. He pulled himself - forward? Or was he moving back? - and desperately tried to make out the shape of Caduceus. 

A rush of relief flooded through him to see the familiar bob of pink hair below the blur of melding shapes and colors. Fjord started attempting to move forward, but there was no longer open space before him to walk. Because everything had begun to meld and melt together, there was a solid mass building up between them. He found himself half climbing, half swimming through. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see where from the edges the light was fading the fastest. It turning into deep shadow, and encroaching quickly upon them. 

“Caduceus!” He yelled. 

“Fjord!” And Caduceus was moving to him as well, slowly, though he was fighting through the water. The water? The colors, the - the shapes of things that had once been trees, and grass, and roses. Fjord hated dreams. 

Fjord felt something brush against his arm. He glanced over his shoulder and saw it was a tendril of shadow. Panicked, he kicked back against it, only for his leg to be caught in shadow as well. Lines of it snaked down his leg and he couldn’t help the cry of fear that escaped from his lips.

“Fjord!” Caduceus was louder now, closer now. “Let him go!” Fjord knew that he only had to get to him and somehow, everything would be alright. He felt that certainty deep in his soul. 

It gave him enough strength to yank away from the clutches of shadow. Or maybe it was Caduceus’ dream, and he had managed to force it back. Either way, he was free. Fjord turned back around, but it was difficult to see - well, much of anything, anymore. Caduceus was there as well, maybe only a foot or so away, but it was as though he was muted through layers of black paint. Fjord felt a strange plummeting sensation in his stomach. 

And then he was falling. 

They were both falling through the dark. No more color, no more light. Fjord reached out his hand. He saw Caduceus stretch out his own, tried to grab it -

And Fjord woke with a gasp of breath. In his room. In his bed. Alone.

Caduceus must have fallen asleep on the rooftop again after tending to his garden, he had the habit of doing that. Only it wasn't settling Fjord's nerves, not being able to see him first thing after that nightmare. He leapt out of bed before his mind could even catch up with what had happened, clumsy jamming his feet into his slippers. He slung his robe over his shoulder, and yanked the door open with one hand to stumble into the dark hallways of the Xhorhaus beyond his room. 

Fjord slipped on the wooden floors, the slippers not the best choice for running in, and swung into the staircase. He only didn’t run up the stairs to avoid loudly waking up the rest of the house, but he had to force himself to calm down.

His heart was beating loudly in his ears. He just had to make sure that Caduceus was safe, that he was still here. He had to know if that was just some stupid nonsense crap his mind had made up for him, or if they had actually both been there together… wherever there was. 

Fjord had his answer at the top of the stairs, which swung open in front of him.

There, haloed in the light from behind him, was a startled looking Caduceus. “Fjord…” He breathed out. His hair was messy, sticking out in places, and his face was pale and drawn. He was wearing a very frumpy looking sleeping gown that was threadbare around the sleeves and elbows. He was here, whole and safe before him; and he was the most beautiful thing Fjord had ever seen. 

Fjord didn’t say anything, just ran up the last stretch of stairs, two steps at a time, and grabbed him bodily into a fierce hug. 

Caduceus hesitated for a moment, or maybe he needed to catch his weight and settle, before his arms came up and he wrapped them around Fjord’s shoulders, pulling him even closer.

“You were there,” Caduceus said. “In my dream. Weren’t you?”

“I was there,” Fjord said. “Caduceus, what was that? All of it, not just the last part. You were talking to - to Her," He stumbled, not that the memory was fragmented. It was intensely clear and easy to remember, in the way dreams rarely were. It was the weight of implication in the Wildmother's presence there that dragged the moment out between them. “And I was trying to get through but there was a barrier - and you couldn’t hear me. At least, I don’t think you could?”

Caduceus’ hold on him tightened. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just let out a low, shuddering sigh. He lowered his head, rested it on Fjord’s shoulder. 

Fjord looked over his shoulder, straight at the great tree beyond. The lights were lit, spiraling up the trunk and far into the branches and leaves above it. The symbols of different worship which Caduceus had painstakingly added were covered in that soft glowing light, illuminated from the continual darkness which draped over Xhorhas. Fjord’s eyes found the Wildmother’s symbol among them and couldn’t put a name to what exactly it was he was feeling. Confusion was strong among them, as was an edge of protectiveness for his partner. 

“Sometimes, the things we are asked to do are things which are very difficult for us. That is the challenge of faith,” Caduceus said, almost sounding rote. Like he was repeating something which he had been taught more than something he believed, at least in this moment.

Fjord pulled away, slightly. Not out of his hold but he tilted his head to try and make out Caduceus’ expression where he had buried into Fjord’s shoulder.

“What does that mean? Caduceus?” Fjord asked. “What did she ask of you?”

He felt, more than saw, the slightest shake of Caduceus’ head. 

“You didn’t hear. That’s good.” Caduceus said. “This is something only I need to know, for now. Can you let me?” He pulled his head up and met Fjord’s eye, and there was a deep sadness in his expression. Fjord couldn’t imagine anything he didn’t want more than to know what it was that had put it there, so he could fight it or fix it or just make it go away.

“... Yes,” Fjord agreed, ignoring those screaming instincts. “If that’s what you need.” He didn’t know if it was the right decision. He only knew he couldn’t force Caduceus to tell him anything and the last thing he wanted to do was argue. 

“I promise.” Caduceus said. He let Fjord go, only to raise his hand to cup Fjord’s face. “I swear, when the time is right. I will let you know what has been asked of me. I just - I only need time. It has to be the right time.” 

“If it’s something that threatens you…”

“Everything we are striving to do is a threat to us, Fjord,” Caduceus said, sounding tired. He sighed, and leaned forward, so that their foreheads were pressed together. “Everything. Charging into any one of these battles we’ve chosen, that’s dangerous. We never know what goal we chose to pursue will be the one that endangers us. All this is… is another goal.” 

“But not yours. Her goal,” Fjord said. “You don’t get to say no to it, do you.”

“That is the nature of service.” Caduceus closed his eyes. A smile tugged at his lips. “A path you, yourself, walk on now.” 

“That’s not exactly comforting, Caduceus.” 

“I’m sorry. I know it isn’t.” Caduceus opened his eyes again. He looked at Fjord. “I think you are, though. Comforting.” Fjord spluttered out something sheepish, instinctively stepping back without thinking. Thankfully, Caduceus held him in place so he didn’t step down the open staircase behind it. Fjord clutched to his shirt and tried not to turn deep green in embarrassment. 

Caduceus’ fingers gripped into his arms tightly. “I am sorry,” he said, softly. “I don’t know what it must have been liked to be trapped there without knowing what was going on, but I think She might have let you in, to - to remind me that I’m not alone.”

“Why’d She make me fight so hard, then?” Fjord said, and then it clicked. “Oh. To prove I would. That’s… tricky.” That was the nice way of saying it. He was trying to choose his words carefully here, picking them up like stones and throwing away those that might make it worse. 

“That’s how they are.” Caduceus said. 

“I don’t think I appreciate it.”

Caduceus chuckled. “Yeah,” he agreed. There were lines on his brow, around his eyes. Fjord wondered if they’d always been there and he was just now noticing, while they pressed together so closely here, breathing in each other's air. Or if it was a result of all the trials and tribulations he’d been through, since the Mighty Nein had stolen him away from the safety of his home. 

Fjord reached out, brushed Caduceus’ cheekbone with his thumb. 

“Hey,” he said, softly. “We’ve forced a lot on you as well, you know.”

Caduceus frowned. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve drowned, Caduceus. You’ve been killed by friendly fire. You’re right, when you say our own goals and ambitions are just as dangerous.” Fjord said. “You ever miss it? The Blooming Grove? Do you ever wish that you could be back there, safe... or whatever counts as relatively safe, in the Savalirwood.”

“No,” Caduceus said. “Well, yeah. My home, maybe, and my family. I miss them. But I don't regret being here with you. We’ve done great things, important things. And we’ve done it all together, as a group. As the Mighty Nein. It isn’t something that was pushed on me. I chose to be a part of it, to be with you, all of you.”

Fjord nodded. “Ok,” he said. “And it's the same for this, whatever it is.” Caduceus looked confused, and then he looked crestfallen as he caught up. “I mean it. Whatever She asked of you to do. We’ll be there as well, all of us.”

Caduceus sighed, in such a way that it moved through his whole body starting with his shoulders. He pulled away, dropping out of the hug. The place where his warmth had been was replaced with the cold night air, and Fjord couldn’t help but make a face in discomfort.

Caduceus looked fondly at Fjord. “You shouldn’t volunteer other people without consulting them first.”

“Well, fine.” Fjord said. “I’ll be there. I’m also in service to the Wildmother, you know, so I think that's going to be how it goes anyway. And She let me into that dream, even if neither of you will let me know what I’m signing up for. I’ll do it. Whatever it is.” 

“I’m not holding you to that.” Caduceus said. He was smiling a little though, so that was at least movement in a positive direction. Fjord would accept that. 

“And I’m not going back to my room alone tonight.” Fjord said. “So you should probably invite me to stay up here with you.” 

Caduceus shook his head. “I don’t want to be alone either,” he admitted, voice low. “I doubt there will be another dream, it’s only… I will have a hard time going back to sleep after that, I think.”

Fjord leaned up, on his toes, to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Then he reached down, and threaded their fingers together, and tugged him along, back to the bed Caduceus had set up for himself on the roof. Caduceus obediently let him pull him there, let him arrange them both so that they were facing each other. 

They curled up together against the dark. Fjord watched as Caduceus closed his eyes, watched his chest rise and fall until his breath fell out in a steady, familiar pattern of sleep. He stayed up a little longer still. At first he simply ran a hand down Caduceus’ arm in a gentle stroking pattern, which he had done to help lull him to sleep, but the movement was comforting to him as well. It was good to feel the warmth of him, to know he was alive and here and whole.

After a little while, Fjord slipped quietly out from under the covers, and parted from Caduceus' side.

He walked over to the tree. He went straight towards the Wildmother’s symbol. It was clearly taken care of very well, and polished. There were leaves and flowers arranged before it, perhaps an offering or only decoration. The only time it went without attention was when Caduceus couldn't be here. Otherwise, his devotion to Her was evident.

“I don’t expect you to answer me, like you do him. I don't expect much of anything at all,” Fjord said. “And, I’m grateful. For everything you’ve done for me leading up to this point. Really, I truly am. I can't imagine who I'd be now if you hadn't helped me down this path."

There'd been plenty of strange and powerful foes and enemies that Fjord had faced, that the Mighty Nein had. He'd grown accustomed to being the face of the group. Despite his background, or more accurately because of it, he'd learned how to lean on bravado, on charm. But it was a different thing to do entirely to disagree with a god you'd come to place some measure of trust and even faith in.

"I think you want me to take care of him, and I’ll do that. I would have, anyway, without you asking. Just so we're clear there.” Fjord was shaking. He wanted to blame it on the cold air, but he knew it wasn't that. He felt like the words came out much braver than he felt, but he still pushed on. He reached up to his chest, where his pin usually was, but of course found it bare of anything but the cloth of his nightshirt. 

“I’ve been… used by powers that made me feel like there was no other path, no better way. I first came to ask for Caduceus’ guidance, wanting to learn more about you, in part because I do have faith that isn’t how you do things.” Fjord said. “But know that I don’t have his kind of habitual or practiced faith in you. I didn't grow up with the expectation to serve, thinking that following specific guidelines are the only way to lead the right kind of life. I question. I don’t accept hard answers out of sheer faith. If you go too far, I’ll return the favor he once did for me, and he won’t be yours anymore. … That’s all I wanted to say.”

For a moment he waited for some kind of retribution. Not a lightning strike, that seemed more the Stormlord’s business. Perhaps the fear was for the tree to shake and the roots to break through the stone under his feet, curl around his ankles and drag him underground to bury him below. 

Instead, there was the lightest touch of wind against his cheek, almost a sigh.

Fjord waited, but it appeared that was all he would get. And he could’ve imagined even that, for as small as it was. Caduceus could speak that She was in everything that was in nature, but Fjord doubted She was listening all the time, in every leaf or drop of water. He'd heard the Traveler complain too much about being stretched too thin, and the Wildmother had a greater number of people demanding Her services at all hours, day and night. 

He wasn’t sure if he was more disappointed or relieved that little to nothing had happened to him for threatening to steal Her servant away if She pushed too hard, but he took it for what it was, and returned to the bed and Caduceus’ side. 

The future was always uncertain. But for today, it was warm here, it was safe here. Fjord closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> If this was a video game, I think Fjord just unlocked Caduceus' final personal quest. My favorite part of this fic, if I'm allowed to say, is that most of their dialogue in the dream sequence is them just yelling each other's names like it's some horrible game of Marco Polo. 
> 
> This is for the Fjorclay week prompt uh what day are we on now guys, five? It's for Dreams! 
> 
> Today's song title is taken from the lyrics of the song"Forest Fires" by Axel Flóvent as found on my fjorclay playlist.


End file.
